We Are
by UjCake
Summary: Spartans were created for one thing: to protect the UNSC. Propaganda said the super soldiers were guardian angels to the human race and terrifying demons on the battlefield. However, some of them wanted out and it nearly cost them and their loved ones their lives. Now, a small group of rogue UNSC forces forge their way their way through a new galaxy to find out if it was worth it.
1. Introduction

**I do not own Star Wars or Halo. Only this story and my OCs.**

**Introduction**

The thick jungle was dark, considered dingy by all but its own inhabitants. However, the darkness did not stem from the fleeing night as the sun rose, scattering orange light through the thick foliage. The dark feeling was of death and the dark side of the Force that seemed to permeate everything-the essence of the dark lords entombed in stone temples just beneath the surface of the planet. The darkness seeped into everything, twisting the plants into sickly shapes and turning the native creatures into aggressive abominations. There was a break from the dismal rain that seemed to never cease, allowing the morning sunlight to dapple across the dark life of the jungle as the stormy sky briefly cleared. The tree canopy above swayed with the wind, the light on the ground dancing in random patterns. As the sun rose, the light glinted off a metallic object buried in the damp ground. The sunlight shifted across its surface, revealing white lettering and a symbol on the old gunmetal grey background paint. The paint colors where easily seventy-five years old, perhaps more. The white paint was now an off-white, ruddy brownish color, the dark grey peeling, having been exposed to the elements of the dark planet. The symbol was of a strange avian species, not native to anywhere in the known galaxy, with its wings spread and its talons buried deep into a planet. The four letters were blocky, written in a language unknown to the rest of the galaxy: _UNSC._

**Author's Note: Ok, so this is the first story I have ever written, so please go easy on me. I have decided to delve into the very large and already explored area of Star Wars and Halo crossovers. I know there are already a lot out there, but I wanted to try my hand at one so here's the intro. I don't believe anyone has done a story like the one I am planning, but if they have then I am sorry; I don't mean to step on anyone's toes. This story will be involve a female Noble Six, who survived the Human-Covenant War, as one of the main characters. In future chapters, I will explain some things about her, as she does not follow the Halo: Reach storyline exactly (she survives, for example) and some of her qualities are different than the qualities of the canon Noble Six (she is a Spartan II, for example). This story will also involve several characters from Star Wars the Old Republic game and mentions of characters from the Old Republic book series. This story will involve many words in different languages, OCs, soldier's cursing, war violence, possibly triggering themes, and there is the slight possibility of some adult themes later (I haven't decided yet), so it is rated M as a precaution. If anything I have stated so far does not sit well with you, then please don't read this story.**


	2. Jungle Shadows

**I do not own Star Wars or Halo. I only own this story and my OCs.**

**Chapter 1: Jungle Shadows**

A steel grey helmet swiveled to the side, the black T-shaped visor glinting off one of the sparse sunbeams that managed to make it through the jungle foliage unobstructed. The man growled at his seemingly never-ending bad luck as he swatted aside a swarm of those blasted blood-sucking insects as they tried to squeeze their way under his _beskar_ armor. He heard a chuckle erupt over the comms before a conveniently timed cough echoed in his ear. He gritted his teeth, swiftly pivoted and stood, back straight, to give his taller companion a glare strong enough to curdle a person's blood. However, given that neither of them could see each other's faces due to the matching helmets they wore, the effect was lost. The man just _knew _his _vod _had a cheeky smile plastered across his face as he raised his gauntleted hands in a placating manner.

"Settle down, Talvor. _Udesii,_ _ner vod_ -_"_ Talvor spun around before his companion could finish, continuing his unceremonious traipsing along the dense jungle path. As he stomped down his route, his grumblings began to spill out of his mouth again and across the duo's designated comm channel. He heard his companion sigh, probably because he had to deal with Talvor's attitude. He checked the locator on his visor's Head's Up Display, or HUD as it was colloquially known, to make sure his friend's identification tag was following.

The silence stretched between them as the two continued the routine border patrol around the bunker they made their home in. The occasional curse or insult at their surroundings notified his companion of his still-sour mood. As Talvor stepped over a thick root that jutted into his path, he growled angrily as he swatted at yet _another_ cloud of the disgusting insects away from his person. He stumbled his way through the rainbow-colored insects, his boots nearly sliding in the mud, before checking the blaster strapped to his hip and once again continuing his trek through the jungle. As he cursed the insects and their infernal buzzing, a throaty growl was his only warning.

A hand clamped down on Talvor's shoulder pauldron and yanked him around. He stumbled with the force of the spin, almost slipping in the mud. Regaining his balance, he looked up to find his companion's form towering over his own stout one, his _vod_'s bucket only a few centimeters from his own visor. He blinked in surprise as he took an involuntary step back.

"What the hell is your problem, Uliik?" Talvor hissed.

"Are you sure I shouldn't be asking _you _that, you _di'kut_!?" Uliik roared as he jabbed an armored gauntlet into Talvor's chestplate, shoving him with enough force he stumbled back a few paces. "I have had it with your constant bitching! That's all you have done this entire patrol! You brought this _osik'la_ assignment onto not only yourself, but onto me as well because I have to baby-sit your _di'kutla shebs_. Yet you don't hear me bitching and being a _mir'osik _about it! _K'atini_! Accept the fact that there are consequences for doing something so foolish!"

Talvor gaped up at his younger friend. In the scattered light of the sunrise, the shadows cast from the giant trees surrounding them played over Uliik's tense form. His body language was steeped in anger and his taut muscles coiled, ready to pounce. Ready to pounce on _Talvor._ Although he would never admit it, his tall _vod_ looked intimidating. Talvor's own warrior reflexes caused his body to react to the sudden threat to his well-being his friend posed. Bending his knees and widening his stance, he lowered his center of gravity to ready his body for action if Uliik decided to act like the predator he resembled so well at the moment.

His warrior friend _was_ a predator, but so was Talvor. "Just what _exactly_ are you trying to say?" he ground out in a low voice as his eyes flashed in anger behind his visor.

"_Haar'chak_! You want me to spell it out for you, _vod_!?" Uliik sneered.

Talvor hissed through his teeth. It took all his willpower and discipline to keep his naturally short temper from igniting at the condescending tone of his _vod_'s voice.

"You should be _glad_ the _alor'ad _was merciful enough to at least let you go out on patrol! At least you have the freedom to do or say whatever the _haran_ you want out here! He could've grounded you to base camp, sent you to work for the quartermaster, or taken on a more formal kind of punishment and challenged you to a duel!" Uliik took a threatening step toward Talvor and the two men began slowly circling each other between the foliage. "He would have been well within his rights to beat the _osik _out of you for disrespecting his authority like you did! In fact, I'm surprised he didn't, because your actions back there made you an embarrassment, not only to our _aliit, _but to the _Kyr'tsad _purpose, and perhaps even the entirety of the _Mando'ade_!"

With every word that his _vod _spoke, rage and adrenaline seeped into Talvor's bloodstream, pulsing into every fiber of his being by his rapidly thumping heart. But Uliik's last sentence was the last straw. With an infuriated, wordless snarl, Talvor launched himself at Uliik. The other man was faster. Uliik pivoted as he dodged to the right, Talvor landing in a barrel roll. He ground the heel of his armored boot into the mud as he ended the roll in a crouch. Redirecting his momentum and anchoring himself on his heel, he sprung up and to the side just as Uliik's armored form collided with his shoulder, sending both men spiraling off the path and tumbling into the darkness of the jungle.

The breath was knocked from Talvor's lungs as Uliik's heavily armored form crunched his own into the uneven ground. Uliik may have been faster than him, but Talvor knew without a doubt that he was stronger than his lean _vod._ His lungs screaming for air, Talvor tore Uliik from above him and rammed his shoulder into Uliik's chest, knocking both combatants over and down into a steep ravine. The two men grappled, gasping for breath, as they half-slid, half-tumbled down the steep slope, until they slammed into a thick tree trunk and were wrenched apart.

Talvor tumbled down the muddy hillside, colliding with roots, rocks, and trees. His eyes wide, he thanked the _Manda _for his armor as he collided with several objects he didn't have time to identify as he slid past. Stretching out his arms he grasped for something, _anything, _to slow his decent. His gauntlet snagged, his lower body's momentum yanking him sharply. He heard more than felt something in his shoulder viciously pop before feeling a fire burning through his left arm. He froze in shock, his ragged breathing the only sound he could hear in his helmet.

Movement on his HUD caught his attention. His head snapped over just in time to see Uliik's form fly head-first out the jungle tree-line and over the precipiece. Talvor's eyes bulged, his breath hitching as he belatedly realized his situation. He was currently dangling over a cliff by a most likely dislocated shoulder, his forearm and wrist caught above him on a short stretch flat ground. Talvor reached up with his free arm and grasped the root he was snagged on, hauling himself back over the ledge, his boots scrabbling for traction on the side of the muddy cliff. He quickly unsnagged his wrist and crawled away from the edge.

Lying on his back, Talvor gasped for breath as he tried to calm his racing heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as a wave of pain hit him, mostly from his dislocated shoulder and his probably sprained wrist. He opened his eyes and sat up, wincing as he gingerly probed his shoulder socket with two fingers. _Definitely dislocated. Gonna have to fix that. _He thought as he painfully grasped his unmoving arm with his opposite hand and leaned forward to bring his injured hand to clench between his boots. With a calming breath, he grit his teeth and leaned back.

He cried out, his shoulder making a wet _shhhlick _sound as he felt is slide into place. A sharp, prickling pain filled his numb arm as he tested his it's mobility. He breathed deeply through his nose and clenched his teeth. A bead of sweat dripped down his temple from the pain, despite the temperature controls in his armor. He took one last deep breath before opening his eyes. He quickly pulled out a kolto injection from his belt and injected it into the crook of his arm through his flightsuit. Talvor rose to his feet, feeling the odd burning chill of the medicine spread through his arm and begin to knit him back together.

Talvor checked that his handgun, hunting rifle, and hunting blade were still in their respective places- thankfully they were. He looked around and not recognizing his surroundings, checked his locator against the map on his HUD. His shoulders slumped as he nearly groaned aloud. If his HUD's locator was correct, he was currently nearly a kilometer downhill, _down a very steep hill,_ from the patrol route. A flashing icon on his map caught his attention. It was Uliik's IFF tag.

Talvor swore under his breath. Gingerly making his way back to the cliff edge, he peered down. Relief swept through him as his HUD analyzed the canyon. It was only around twenty meters deep. With his armor, Uliik had a good chance at surviving, however painful it would be when the adrenaline wore off. Worst case scenario… Uliik landed wrong and wouldn't be awake to feel _any_ pain at all.

Ignoring the growing panic at the thought of his close _vod_'s demise, he looked toward where his HUD indicated where his friend was. His brows furrowed at the sight. His _vod _was fine. In fact, Talvor could even hear his groans as he stood up on shaking legs. In the back of his mind he remotely registered his friend tending to his wounds and the relief that fact gave him. But it was what his wounded, mud-covered friend was standing _on_ that had caught his attention.

Uliik was standing on a… a starship? It was half buried into the dry riverbed, only what looked like the front end and top sticking into the air. It seemed as if the giant hunk of dark grey metal had broken Uliik's fall.

Uliik, favoring his right leg, stood unsteadily on a large viewport and looked around. Talvor's comm crackled to life as Uliik caught sight of him. "You alright _vod_?" Uliik asked, the animosity from earlier absent in the face of their current situation. It was important they each knew the other's current status, just in case they were faced with sudden danger.

"I'm alright. _Kriffed_ up my wrist and shoulder. Otherwise I'm fine. You?" Talvor answered, his voice rough and hushed.

"Possibly fractured a rib or two and sprained my ankle." That explained the leg. Uliik was breathing hard from the pain.

"Hey… What is that you are standing on?" Talvor questioned, confusion and wariness in his voice. "It looks like a starship from here."

Uliik looked under his feet, "A… Ship?" Talvor was quiet as he watched Uliik kneel down and swipe his hand across the surface of the large object, clearing the thin layer of jungle debris and mud from the viewport. "It looks like it. The surface here is made of some sort of polarized material. Industrial-grade plexiglass or transparasteel maybe?" Uliik's voice was laced with curiosity as he tapped the viewport with a gloved finger. Talvor watched his friend scramble down the side of the ship.

Talvor blinked. _Uliik isn't going to… Yep, there he goes…_ Talvor thought with a small huff of annoyance. He watched from his perch as Uliik's curiosity got the best of him and he began limping a circle around the ship, the tips of his fingers grazing the portion of hull that was showing.

"Come _on_, Uliik. We have to start back now. We're already going to be getting back late, and I don't need the _alor'ad_ to fry me for this too." Talvor tiredly said as his friend's youthful curiosity led him around the ship.

His words fell on deaf ears. Uliik continued around the ship to the other side, out of Talvor's sight. This unsettled him. Basic training said they were supposed to stay in each other's sight in case of danger found one of them.

Huffing in mild irritation at his brother-in-arms, Talvor unslung the rifle from his back and unhooked the grapple from his belt. Attaching it to his rifle, he aimed at a nearby tree and fired. The spear-shaped grapple lodged in the dark, moss-covered tree trunk, three prongs snapping forward to hook deeply into the wood like a feline's retractable claws. Talvor yanked harshly on the line to test its strength, his injured wrist protesting with a twinge. He gave a nod of satisfaction. It would hold.

He tightened the tension in the launcher to slow his decent down the side of the cliff and backed up to the edge. Gripping his rifle, he stepped back and lowered himself down. The grapple line gave a barely perceptible whir as he descended the twenty meters to the ground. Unhooking the grapple and leaving the line hanging, he slung his rifle over his back and jogged over to where Uliik had disappeared around the ship.

The ship was larger up-close. Much larger.

Talvor rounded the corner and almost collided with Uliik, whom was kneeling and scraping the coat of mud from a section of hull.

"Check this out!" Uliik's voice was barely suppressed and coated with awe. Talvor glanced at what his _vod _was gesturing to and had to do a double-take. Once he registered what was painted onto the hull, he felt just how his _vod_ sounded.

"What language is that…?" Uliik began, hushed.

"I… I don't know." Talvor answered, kneeling down beside him to get a better look. "The language is unfamiliar to anything I've seen. I'm running scans of it through the holonet, but I'm not getting anything."

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

Both men stared, as if daring it to change before their eyes. Uliik snapped his head to look over at Talvor before looking further down the old hull. "C'mon. Let's check it out." Wincing at his injuries, Uliik jumped up to continue his inspection. Talvor followed wordlessly, the possible reprimand from his superiors pushed to the back of his mind in lieu of their new discovery.

"So," Uliik began, "Whose do you think this thing is?"

"I have no idea. The holonet and our own databases didn't come up with anything. You think this thing might've been crashed recently by some smuggler?"

"Aww, no way. Man, this thing has got to be _way _older than that. Our base has been on this backwater mudball for decades… I'm pretty sure our sensors would've picked up something this big crashing through the atmosphere. Especially this close to the bunker." Uliik sounded excited at the prospect of finding a possibly never discovered before civilization, and Talvor would be lying if he said he wasn't also excited at the thought of the black market prices they could get. "Okay... I know that language was possibly never documented before, but did you get anything on the symbol back there?"

Talvor glanced at his young friend before confirming, "No. I searched for everything I could: the symbol itself, the lettering, the avian species, even the world it was sitting on. No matches in our databases or on the 'net."

Uliik looked back at Talvor with a questioning tilt of his head. "No _osik? _What do you think it means?"

"The symbol looks to signify some sort of organization or religion. Maybe it's a tribute to some ancient god or something. I don't know, I'm no scholar…" Talvor trailed off.

"This is getting me excited." Uliik said in a sing-song voice as he smirked behind his helmet before his voice turned thoughtful, "But if I had to guess, I'd say your theories have some sense to them."

Talvor agreed with his friend as he hummed in thought. "Given the market price for unregulated tech, and also archeological artifacts right now, I don't doubt it could possibly fetch a pretty hefty sum," He said as he ran the possible numbers through his head.

Uliik made a sound of satisfaction. "Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner." He squatted and tapped a crusty-looking box that could have been an electronic door lock at one point in time.

Talvor leaned over him and tilted his head at an angle, "There's no way we're gonna get that working by ourselves, _vod._ Let's call it in to base." His comm crackled to life as Uliik contacted the men in the control room, whom were monitoring the patrols and base security, and linking the camera feeds from their HUDs.

**-Time Skip-**

Hours later, Talvor and Uliik were patched up and sent to continue their patrol as the excavation process began.

**-Time Skip-**

Vitekk was a man who was as quick in his mind as he was on his feet. He was considered cold, calculating, and ruthless to his enemies: a lethal combination. He liked his job and his tenacity and commitment didn't go unrewarded. He worked hard when he was in his youth and now being middle aged, he was in command of this sector of his clan's space. Granted, this sector in the Wild Space didn't have much else besides pirates, planets with sith tombs, and twisted creatures that made his warriors' lives hard, but the way he saw it, the harder the battle the more glory and honor bestowed. The man was practically the poster boy for the Mandalorian rebels known as the _Kyr'tsad_.

But Vitekk was also a patient man, and it showed: he had waited for this moment, ever since his men had commed it in two months ago. As the captain of this base, he oversaw the entire excavation process; he had decided to have the ship moved onto the base's large landing platform. Currently, he was supervising his men as they cut a hole to breach the hull. It was a smaller ship, perhaps the size of a heavy frigate. It was a dark, gunmetal grey color and had a strange avian symbol and large, bold lettering transcribed on the side of the ship, presumably the ship's name, in the strange language. Corrosion analysis made it out to be an old ship, at least a century. Not as ancient as he had been hoping for, but it would do. The corners of Vitekk's mouth curved up in a little smile at the prospect of what was inside. Perhaps they would find some salvageable cargo or technology...

The scientific and archaeology enthusiasts in the black market rings kept their tech under tight wraps from the selfish Republic and the Empire, meaning all contraband artifacts and unregulated technology-no matter the origin-was highly valued. In fact, the black market dealers for these fields tended to keep all of their cards close to their chest. That was why he had his people documenting and recording everything from the moment the border patrol discovered the ship. But, if this ship did have secrets inside, perhaps with the computers or with its cargo… Vitekk's mouth practically watered at the thought of all the credits his cause would receive for funding their operations. This find could jump-start the Death Watch's plans by years, maybe _decades, _and finally free themselves from the deal that the man who paraded himself as _Mand'alor _had made with the Sith-if they played their cards right. And Vitekk would be the one to present his leaders with the find. Excitement jumped through his veins at the praise he would receive. Maybe this could land him a promotion…

Vitekk pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as a voice crackling across his helmet's comm snapped him out of his musings. "_Alor'ad_, we're through."

"Proceed." He watched from the side as his men entered into the ship via the large hole they made with the cutting torches. He pulled up a few of the Mandalorians' HUDs and watched as they slowly made their way through the ship.

**-Time Skip-**

Vitekk stood before the massive pods in the storage bay. At least that's what he thought the room was. That, or some sort of lab. The walls were lined with large pods, much larger than a fully armored man. In the middle of the room was some sort of tech with a computer. Behind him was a clear window into a room with a lot of computers, located next to the room's entrance door.

Everything in the ship was surprisingly clean. There was the occasional sign of age: a thin layer of dust in the corner or a sticking door. Overall though, there was nothing. Not a single sign of a previous crew. Vitekk already had his men looking for any sign that someone was ever on the ship in the dormitories, the bridge, and the mess hall. So far, nothing. Everything was in place and perfectly, almost obsessively, in order. It was eerie, to say the least.

Vitekk was silent as he looked at the towering pod in the darkness in front of him. His men's spotlights shone on the upper half of the pod, revealing it had a small window, however he couldn't see the cargo inside due to a film of frost on the inside. Frost meant whatever was inside was probably delicate, still preserved, and possibly expensive. He stepped to the side to allow his men to cut the heavy pod from its dock to load it onto an industrial strength grav-cart and take it out into the hanger.

**-Time Skip-**

Vitekk walked up to one of the few pods they retrieved from the ship. He had them retrieve four, and once they were done cataloging these he would have his men retrieve the next group. The huge cargo pods were standing side-by-side. Several of his troops approached behind him. "Open it." He commanded.

"Yes, sir." His men echoed back. A tech linked his personal hacking tool to the pod to begin the process of compatibilizing the two different network styles. Once that was accomplished with a satisfactory grunt, he began finding the numbered code to unlock the pod without damaging the contents.

A few minutes later, the tech disconnected his tool as the pod gave a hiss. The front of the pod slid up, allowing the white frosty air inside to billow out and sink to the ground to coil around the ankles of the Mandalorians.

Vitekk blinked in surprise. _A suit of armor…? Or is it a droid of some sort?_ He wondered within the confines of his mind. Whatever it was, it was big. Not quite as large as the pod it was in, but it still towered over all of his men. He had one of his men scan it for an electronic signal, as thermals would be useless due to the nature of the pod and the fact that if it was a person, then they would be long dead.

"No, sir. No electronic frequency."

_So it's probably not a droid… _Vitekk was utterly baffled. If the thing wasn't a droid, then it had to be armor. If it was armor, he had no idea what could possibly wear it. It was _way_ too large to be worn by a human; it was at least as tall as a wookie and much broader than the walking carpets were; he had no idea what kind of alien it was made for. "Open the rest." He said, his voice just barely betraying his bafflement.

His men snapped off quick affirmatives before setting themselves to the task.

Once all the pods were open, he looked at the cargo. They all had similar content to the first pod. Tall, bipedal, droid-looking suits of armor. _But why were they frozen? _Each of them were different sizes-the first one they opened being the largest, different colors, and slight variations in their attachments. Two of them even looked to be slightly feminine in shape, but only if Vitekk squinted. "Seal 'em back up and send them to the lab."

**-Time Skip-**

Lekk pursed his lips as he looked at the pods in front of him. _One at a time I guess…_ The captain had ordered him and the tech next to him, R'tuung, to take a look at the contents of them. Lekk was the _aliit_ doctor and was there in the off chance there were bodies in the armor, while R'tuung was there in case they really were droids and just dormant at the moment. He glanced at R'tuung, who was looking at the guards the _alor'ad _had posted with them, before nodding to himself and ordering the tech to open one of the pods.

The pod gave a hiss as frosty air pooled out of the bottom. Lekk looked up at the figure inside the pod. It was tall but according to the rumors, it was one of the shortest of the suit-droids. It was a matte black in color with dark-blood red accents and a silver visor.

Lekk ordered the men around him to help him move it to the reinforced operating table. By the time they had moved the thing onto the table across the room, it had taken eight armored men at peak physical fitness nearly twenty minutes. They all stood panting, a few of them taking off their helmets to wipe their brow, Lekk and R'tuung already having clipped theirs to their belts for the procedure.

"_Osik,_ I am not looking forward to moving the larger ones…" one of the younger guards grumbled before placing his helmet back on his head and moving back to his post in the room with the rest, leaving the doctor and tech alone around the table. Lekk couldn't help but silently agree with the man.

R'tuung commented, "We're lucky we decided to use the reinforced table."

Lekk could only hum in agreement, as his attention was already taken up with looking over the figure and documenting everything with both notes and video. Once finished with external observation, he set his notes aside and looked at R'tuung. "Alright, where should we start?"

R'tuung looked up from staring at the off-putting silver face-visor. "Hmm? Oh, uh… I would start with the head. That's a good place for both organics and mechanicals." He shrugged.

Lekk nodded and moved toward its head.

**-Time Skip-**

Captain Vitekk was sitting at the desk in his office. As a ranking official in the Death Watch, he had his own private room. The door to the hallway opened into his small office and faced his desk. The walls were decorated with a workbench, a long-distance holoterminal, and a few shelves filled with various trophies, contraband items, and collector's weapons. Behind his desk were two more doors, one leading to his personal quarters and one to his refresher.

He was currently reviewing the footage he was going to send to his superiors when he notified them about recent events. As per his superior's orders, he sent an update at the end of every week, and therefore had already told the higher-ups about the find two months ago. He had yet to tell them about what cargo the ship was carrying, which was what he was doing now. Vitekk muted all incoming information; he trusted his men to take care of the base for the night. He had told his men to not bother him while he prepared for speaking with his superior the next day, which was why he flinched when his door opened with a _woosh_ and one of his men stumbled in, dressed in the _Kyr'tsad _customary _beskar'gam_.

Just as Vitekk opened his mouth to reprimand him the klaxons sounded and the base lights turned a bright red color. The warrior's voice snapped Vitekk out of his shock, "_Alor'ad!_ It's the medbay!"

If his men had justified disobeying his direct order to not bother him, whatever was happening was urgent enough that the guards in the medbay, nor anyone else in the base for that matter, could handle it. Vitekk put away his work and immediately brought up the medbay camera on his desk computer terminal.

What the battle hardened captain saw made his blood run cold.

**Author's Note: I'm going to tell you now, I don't intimately know the languages besides English. I only know what Google translate tells me, so if I get anything wrong when I insert other languages into my story, by all means please correct me. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I hope you enjoy. Also, I beta myself, so if there are any mistakes, like I said before please let me know. At the request of a reader, here are the translations, in a general order:**

**Mando'a translations:**

**udesii - Settle down, calm yourself**

**ner - my, mine**

**vod - brother, comrad, friend**

**di'kut - idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)**

**osik'la - messed up, screwed, horrible (impolite)**

**di'kutla - useless, stupid, worthless**

**shebs - backside, rear, buttocks (can also be the rear of a building, etc)**

**mir'osik - idiot, empty-headed (lit. shit for brains)**

**k'atini - suck it up, man up (can also mean "It's only pain")**

**haar'chak - damn it**

**alor'ad - captain**

**haran - hell (lit. destruction, cosmic annihilation)**

**aliit - clan, family**

**Kyr'tsad - Death Watch (lit. death society)**

**Mando'ade - (pl.) Mandalorians, (lit. children of Mandalore)**

**beskar'gam - armor**

**Other translations:**

**kriffed - derogatory modifier of the vulgar expletive "kriff" which is synonymous to our word "fuck"**


	3. Metal Beast

**I do not own Star Wars or Halo. I only own this story and my OCs.**

**Warning: this chapter contains an attempted suicide. Do NOT read if you find that triggering or offensive in any way.**

**A/N: Ok, here is chapter 2 of We Are. Some explaining is needed for this chapter. The italics at the beginning are my Six's personal military files. I put them in to explain some differences between my Six and the canon Six. Any italics after that are either flashbacks or thoughts. Again, the translations will be at the end of the chapter.**

**Chapter 2: Metal Beast**

_Restricted Access Only… Access Granted… Decrypting… Transmission ID: 16726***483DG…_

_Sent: O.N.I. Database, Earth, New Mombasa, 2/26/2554, 04:13:56_

_Received: Adm. Carrius, 4th Fleet, U.N.S.C. _NOVEMBER, _2/26/2554, 04:21:03_

_I managed to acquire the files you requested, with no small amount of effort. However, due to the classified nature your new personnel I was only able to decode the following. I will have to send the other files at a later time, due to ONI's tight monitoring of all transmissions. Best of luck._

_O.N.I. Personnel Record_

_ID: 2231*****6849-SII/129_

_SECTION I: BACKGROUND_

_Name: Ashton [Information Reacted] [Information Redacted]-B129_

_Homeworld: Reach, Epsilon Eridani System_

_City: [Information Redacted]_

_Fluent Language(s): English, German_

_04/13/2517: Subject was collected from [Information Redacted] by Agent [Information Redacted] via [Information Redacted] at 00:42. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_SECTION II: TRANING_

_Branch: U.N.S.C. Special Warfare Command_

_Corp: N/A- SPARTAN II Project_

_Facility: [Information Redacted], [Information Redacted]_

_Overseers: SPCO [Information Redacted], Sgt. [Information Redacted], Dr. Catherine Halsey, Prof. [Information Redacted], and Prof. [Information Redacted]_

_04/15/2517: Subject was delivered and inducted into the program. -Prof. [Information Redacted]_

_08/21/2517: 129 is showing a knack for developing relations with others quite easily. She has developed a very close bond to Jorge [Information Redacted]-052. Close monitoring suggested. 129 also showing an increasing tendency towards reclusiveness, with the exception of 052. Teamwork building and squad-oriented exercises recommended. –Sgt. [Information Redacted]_

_11/05/2517: SPARTAN-129 is showing an incredible adaption and learning rate. 129 has fully acclimated to life in the SPARTAN II Project. 129 exhibiting an unusually creative tactical mind. -Prof. [Information Redacted]_

_06/18/2518: The anti-social tendencies of 129 have only increased. 129 shows a decreasing amount of teamwork and an increasing level of agitated behavior. Formal disciplinary actions required. -Sgt. [Information Redacted]_

_09/27/2518: 129 reacting well to disciplining and has successfully, albeit reluctantly, fallen back into the team-orientation. However, 129 shows more potential to work alone rather than in a squad. Suggested additional training to bring these abilities out. -Sgt. [Information Redacted]_

_02/19/2525: 129 is the sole survivor of her team. The entire team, with the exception of 129 perished during a combination of the augmentation process and a botched counterinsurgency mission on [Information Redacted]. 129 showing signs of relapsing back to reclusive tendencies and erratic behavior, as exhibited in 2518 but to a greater degree, to the point of lashing out at everyone with the exception of 052. Observation required. Exercise caution. -Prof. [Information Redacted]_

_03/01/2525: Attempted suicide last night by 129. Found and brought to our attention by Jorge [Information Redacted]-052. Subject currently sedated and restrained at the [Information Redacted] facility. Immediate psychological intervention required. -SCPO [Information Redacted]_

_04/03/2525: 129 is not responding to counseling. Subject refuses to speak with anyone except 052. 129 refuses to attend team-oriented training and integrate into another team. However, behavior and tendencies are back into acceptable parameters. 129 has thrown the entirety of her time and strength into solo-combat training. Suggested permanent training regime in solo-combat. -Sgt. [Information Redacted]_

_04/15/2525: 129 has concluded SPARTAN II-Project training and being pulled from the list of deployable SPARTANs for intensive and specialized solo-training. -SCPO [Information Redacted]_

_08/19/2525: 129 excelling to an extraordinary degree. 129 is able to accomplish objectives in the field more quickly and efficiently than a team is able to. -Sgt. [Information Redacted]_

_09/10/2526: 129 concluded training and was deployed solo yesterday. -Sgt. [Information Redacted]_

_SECTION III: STATIONING/ASSIGNMENTS_

_Handler: Agent [Information Redacted]_

_09/15/2526: 129 arrived at [Information Redacted]. Objective: [Information Redacted]. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_09/18/2526: 129 completed objectives against the Insurrection flawlessly. Subject given next task and transportation aboard the U.N.S.C. [Information Redacted] to_ _[Information Redacted]. Operation: [Information Redacted] to commence. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_09/27/2526: Operation: [Information Redacted] successfully completed. SPARTAN-129 performs quickly and efficiently in the field. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_09/30/2526: SPARTAN-129 is being pulled from under Agent [Information Redacted] for additional training, as she is needed for tasks elsewhere. - [Information Redacted] [Information Redacted]_

_09/30/2526: SPARTAN-129 transferred to Project: [Information Redacted], under [Information Redacted] [Information Redacted]. Further records will not be added to this file if/when 129 is transferred back to U.N.S.C. Special Warfare Command. If there is a higher power out there, may it protect her. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_01/18/2533: With the death of [Information Redacted] [Information Redacted], control over 129's activities has been transferred back to O.N.I. and the U.N.S.C. Special Warfare Command. 129's abilities have been re-evaluated and is officially ranked as hyper-lethal. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_02/24/2533: 129 is being sent aboard the U.N.S.C. [Information Redacted] to assist in Adm. [Information Redacted]'s campaign against the Covenant. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_01/15/2537: 129 curiously brought an injured six-year-old child back from the field. Questioning the Spartan revealed the child being the only survivor of a small settlement 129 came across. Apparently 129 took it upon herself to stabilize and care for the child for the duration of her mission after the child's rescue from Covenant forces. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_01/20/2537: 129 sent to Mamore to join the [Information Redacted] Program. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_06/30/2537: SPARTAN-129 has been sent to Camp Currahee, Onyx to assist Kurt "Ambrose" [Information Redacted]-051 in training Beta Company. Subject has been given an updated tag (B129) as she will be serving with Beta Company. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_06/30/2545: Beta Company graduated and is being deployed to [Information Redacted] for Operation: [Information Redacted]. B129 being pulled from service with Beta Company, by the orders of HIGHCOM, to be reassigned to [Information Redacted] to train the Headhunter Corp, for the duration of Gamma Company's training, due to her proficiency in solo-combat. She will be stationed on the other side of [Information Redacted] from Camp Currahee while she is assigned this task. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_10/01/2551: B129 assigned to fill in vacancy in Wolf Team, under Com. Olympia [Information Redacted]-A291, to reaffirm us of her abilities in a team-oriented setting. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_05/10/2552: B129's abilities in a team environment deemed proficient. B129 assigned counter-insurgency operation on Mamore. She will be tasked with a follow-up operation with the [Information Redacted] Program. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_07/23/2552: B129 has been transferred. She has been ordered to the planet Reach by the orders of Col. Urban Holland. She has been assigned to Noble Team, under the command of Com. Carter [Information Redacted]-A259, and is to rendezvous at [Information Redacted]. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_08/31/2552: Reach has fallen. B129 stayed planet side to ensure the escape of U.N.S.C._ Pillar of Autumn_ and her very important cargo. B129 last seen at the ship-breaking grounds in Aszod. B129 presumed KIA and officially listed as MIA. -AI# CTN 0452-9 "Cortana"_

_12/14/2553: B129 miraculously recovered during a skirmish with the Covenant on [Information Redacted] when she showed up during the battle. Questioning revealed she had hijacked a small Covenant ship and managed to smuggle the ship in with the rest of the invasion fleet, with the help of the disbanded Noble Team's AI: Auntie Dot. Both the ship and the AI where taken to [Information Redacted] for processing and evaluation. B129 no longer listed as MIA. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_01/03/2554: B129 given command of Chimaera Team from Lt. Com. Matthew [Information Reacted]-G211 [Chimaera One (1)], with the call sign Chimaera Six (6). She is tasked with training the team to work efficiently in the field. If this assignment is failed, the team will be disbanded. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_01/24/2554: Chimaera Team reassigned to work under Adm. Carrius of the 4th Fleet in his campaign to stem the tide of the flood and Covenant forces. -Agent [Information Redacted]_

_SECTION IV: COMMENDATIONS_

_Current Rank: Commander, Chimaera Team_

_Notable Service(s) Completed: The Insurrection, Human-Covenant War, and the Flood War_

_Award(s)-in order of commendation by time: Silver Star, Gold Star, Hyper-Lethal certification, Purple Heart, UNSC Red Legion of Honor, Medal of Honor_

_SECTION V: MEDICAL_

_Name: Ashton [Information Redacted]-B129_

_Date of Birth: 03/24/2512_

_Homeworld: Reach, Epsilon Eridani System_

_Gender: Female_

_Race: Germanic_

_Ancestral Origin: Germany_

_Ethnicity: Caucasian_

_Hair Color: Dark Brown_

_Eye Color: Grey_

_Height: 6'4"_

_Weight: 251 lbs._

_Tattoo(s): Service number (barcode)-back of the neck, geometric quadrilateral shapes outlining her bone structure-left arm (shoulder to knuckles), arrow-inside of right forearm (elbow to wrist), compass rose-upper back (between shoulder blades)_

_Piercing(s): N/A_

_Notable Scar(s): Melee: spider web across knuckles on right hand (glass), slash: down outside of right thigh above knee (sniper fire), burn: between collarbone and right shoulder (Covenant needler), burn: across lower back (Covenant plasma), slash: around left side of ribs (blade), two parallel: left side of face from hairline to cheek (Sangheili claws), blunt melee: across lower sternum (Jiralhinae war hammer)_

_Surgeries: SPARTAN II Project augmentations-age 13, AI interface-age 13_

_Medication(s): N/A_

_Chief Medical Examiner: Dr. Catherine Halsey_

_Facility: [Information Redacted], [Information Redacted]_

_4/15/2517: Five-years of age. Showing usual signs of collection: anxiety, curiosity, and fear of the unknown. -Dr. Halsey_

_08/22/2517: Ashton showing reclusive tendencies with the exception of Jorge. The two get along well, most likely due to their shared home planet and Germanic area decent. -Dr. Halsey_

_08/21/2517: Ashton is showing a knack for developing relations with others quite easily. She has developed a very close bond to Jorge. I will be monitoring this bond closely for the duration of her training. -Dr. Halsey_

_11/05/2517: Ashton is showing an incredible adaption and learning rate. She has fully acclimated to life in the SPARTAN II Project. Ashton is exhibiting an unusually creative tactical mind, even when compared to the other gifted children in this program. -Dr. Halsey_

_06/18/2518: The anti-social tendencies of Ashton have only increased. She is showing an increasing level of agitated behavior including sleeplessness, hesitance to obey orders, and voluntary silence. -Dr. Halsey_

_09/27/2518: Ashton's psychological orientation shows more potential for her to work alone rather than in a team. I suggested additional training to bring these abilities out. -Dr. Halsey_

_02/19/2525: Ashton is the sole survivor of her team. She is beginning to relapse back to the reclusive tendencies and erratic behavior, as exhibited in 2518 but to a greater degree, to the point of lashing out at everyone with the exception of Jorge. Close observation of her mental state is required. -Dr. Halsey_

_03/01/2525: Ashton attempted suicide last night. She is currently heavily sedated. Immediate psychological intervention required for her. I will be talking to her later. -Dr. Halsey_

_04/03/2525: She is not responding to counseling. Ashton refuses to speak with anyone except Jorge, who refuses to tell me what is going on in her head. Ashton is refusing to attend team training and accept another team. I suspect her ability to create bonds with others caused her to subconsciously fit them into the gap her family left. The result of losing them in such a short span of time was essentially like losing her family again; the pain from losing her family probably rose up to combine with the pain of losing her team, creating a combination that would push anyone over the limit, especially someone like Ashton, who creates strong bonds so easily if she so chooses. However, her behavior and tendencies are back into acceptable parameters for the project and she will not be scrapped. -Dr. Halsey_

_01/18/2533: 129 is suspected to have killed [Information Reacted] [Information Redacted], returning herself to O.N.I. 129's mental state at the moment, however, is stable. She seems oddly pleased at the prospect of not working for [Information Redacted] [Information Redacted] anymore. It is suspected he used her as a personal assassin and was behind questionable activities against the Insurrection and the UNSC. The motives for his assassination and previous actions were unclear and proof is coincidental at best. -Dr. DiRama_

_01/15/2537: 129 brought an injured six-year-old child back from the field. The boy is an only survivor of a small settlement hit by the Covenant. 129 rescued, stabilized, and cared for the child in the field for several days. He is of oriental decent, most likely Japanese. The child is currently being treated for blood loss, a minor concussion, a broken right tibia, fracturing of the fourth and fifth left ribs, multiple minor contusions and abrasions, and PTSD. Also it should be noted that the boy seems to be mute as he cannot talk but has nothing wrong with his voice mechanisms. This is suspected to be an advanced symptom of his PTSD. However, he is expected to make a full recovery in time. It seems 129 has taken to calling the boy "Azrael," seemingly after a cartoon character from centuries ago. -Dr. Ramet_

_01/19/2537: 129 medically recovered from her injuries in the field and is clinically sound for redeployment. -Dr. Forbes_

_06/29/2537: SPARTAN-129 has been deemed clinically fit (physically and psychologically) enough to be sent to teach the next company of SPARTAN IIIs (Beta). She will be helping to takes some of the burden off of Kurt "Ambrose" [Information Reacted], as he seems to be particularly affected by the loss of Alpha Company. -Dr. Serbis_

_06/30/2545: SPARTAN-B129 succeeded in her task with Beta Company to the degree that ONI wants to keep her off the field as a trainer on the grounds that the UNSC needs more SPARTANs like her. I have deemed her continued fitness for duty at a desirable level. Therefore, she will be the overseer of Project: [Information Reacted] and will see to the training of the Headhunter Corp. -Dr. Serbis_

_10/01/2551: B129 is ordered back to the frontlines by HIGHCOM. I have deemed her fit for this order, however HIGHCOM wants assurances about her loyalty and abilities in a team setting due to her career being focused on solo-combat. -Dr. Serbis_

_05/10/2552: B129's abilities in a team environment have been deemed proficient by my standards. She has the ability to work well with a team. However, she has a tendency have a solo-oriented mindset, winch is understandable with her career having been focused on solo-combat. -Com. Olympia [Information Reacted]-A291_

_08/31/2552: Reach has fallen. B129 refused to leave Reach in favor of guaranteeing the escape of the UNSC _Pillar of Autumn. _This is likely due to either her sense of duty to the mission and her team or her psychological attachment to her destroyed team {all except for one (Jun [Information Reacted]-A266) officially listed as MIA} and her unwillingness to leave her fallen comrades. B129 presumed KIA and officially listed as MIA. -Dr. Halsey_

_12/16/2553: B129 miraculously recovered during a skirmish with the Covenant on [Information Redacted] when she showed up during the battle. Interrogations revealed she had hijacked a small Covenant ship and managed to smuggle the ship in with the rest of the invasion fleet, with the help of the disbanded Noble Team's AI. However, questioning about the events between her escape from Reach and now have been unfruitful. Scans show her mind functioning normally, so it is likely she just does not wish for us to know. Nevertheless, Ashton [Information Redacted]-B129 is needed in the field. B129 has multiple new scars, the most notable being the burn from a direct Covenant Plasma round to her lower back. She has been medically declared physically and psychologically fit for duty. B129 no longer listed as MIA. -Dr. Sharr_

_01/03/2554: Ashton has been given command of Chimaera Team and assigned the call sign __Chimaera __Six (6). The previous commanding officer of the team, Matthew [Information Redacted]-G211 call sign __Chimaera __One (1), was deemed unfit for command because he could not get the team to work efficiently. The result was the death of Charles [Information Redacted]-G176 call sign __Chimaera __Six (6). I am declaring that Ashton is medically sound and completely recovered from her previous assignment. Best of luck to her in getting control of __Chimaera __Team. -Dr. Halsey_

_END O.N.I. Personnel Record: ID: 2231*****6849-SII/B129_

_Delete Files?_

_-ALL_

_Deleting File… Deleted_

_Erasing Transmission (ID: 16726***483DG)… Clearing Terminal Logs: All…_

_Shut Down Terminal?_

_-YES_

_Shutting Down…_

**-Time Skip-**

It was chaos. The emergency lights bathed the halls in red, blending with the blood that stained the walls and pooled around the bodies strewn across the floor. Klaxons sounded, echoing in ears and broken by the sounds of battle. Blaster fire and grenade flashes mixed together to create a cacophony of sound. A man yelled in pain before a serrated knife speared under his chin and up into his helmet to puncture his brain and silence his scream.

"_Osik!_ The droid's loose!"

"_Haar'chak!_"

"_Kriff, _hold your ground! Don't let it through!"

Orders and curses streamed across comm channels in a deafening roar. The grey and blue Mandalorians were beginning to panic. Their enemy was certainly one to fear. There was only _one_ of them awake and currently wreaking havoc in the halls of the Death Watch base. They didn't want to think about what would happen if they had woken all of them up. The fearless Mandalorians were beginning to cower at the sight of the giant armored figure.

It towered over them. Painted in a matte black with dark red accents, it was definitely an imposing figure. Its silver full-faced visor looked emotionlessly at the men and women as it mercilessly slaughtered them. Armed with a combat knife, two gauntlet blades, and any weapons and grenades it picked up from the fallen, it didn't think twice as it demolished the Mandalorians' defensive lines. On its chest plate, it had several emblems painted in different colors: a black and white Iron Cross symbol on a crimson circle background on the right and a number, 129, painted onto its left.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

The black and red armored beast watched as they began to retreat. It dropped the rifle it had picked up and jumped out of cover, before running at an inhuman speed toward a few stragglers. The smaller armored people didn't let up on their cover fire as they tried to back out of the way. The large figure dodged to the side, missing most of the blaster fire. The few shots that managed to hit it were useless; a gold shimmer appeared and absorbed the barrage.

The figure leapt, and using the corridor wall as a springboard, rocketed toward the three stragglers still in the hallway. It brought its left forearm back and flexed it into a fist, a barely perceptible _shink_ met its ears as its gauntlet blade slid out of the compartment in its armor. Reaching out with its right hand while in mid-air, it grabbed ahold of the closest man and forced the blade into the weak spot between the armor plates on his chest and his helmet with enough strength to shear the blade through the resistant fabric and jumpsuit underneath. Somersaulting over the slumping body, it launched itself over the shoulders of the next man, driving the blade into the fleshy spot in the crook of his neck to pierce his heart. The figure grabbed the handle of the combat blade strapped to its left shoulder with its right hand and yanked the bloody, serrated knife from its sheath. Swinging its right arm in a wide arc, the black and red armored figure felt the blade catch as it forced its way through the throat of the final enemy in the hallway. Extending its legs, it bent its knees and caught the weight of itself as it listened to the three bodies hit the floor in quick succession just behind it. The armored figure froze crouched on the balls of its feet, the pads of its gloved fingers planted securely in front of it, right arm and combat knife extended out. Its silver visor faced the end of the hall where the rest of its attackers disappeared.

The figure waited in that position for just the few seconds it took to assure itself its attackers wouldn't be returning. Standing up, it kept its eyes on the end of the hallway until a golden shimmer covered it before disappearing to signify its recharged shielding. It flicked the combat knife, crimson blood spattering the ground where the figure stood: it didn't notice. Sheathing the knife, it looked at the trail of carnage behind it before checking its motion tracker. Nobody around, unless they were moving slowly enough they weren't picked up by the electronic sensor.

The figure moved back the way it came at a leisurely pace. Turning down the first hallway it came to, it silently made its way down the corridor and picked up fresh weapons and grenades. The metal giant continued on its way through the shadows of the blood-red lights, its only companions being the continuous wail of the sirens and the dead slumped against the walls.

**-Time Skip-**

Captain Vitekk looked at the carnage onscreen in the control center, his grim face a mask betraying nothing of his inner turmoil. So many of his warriors, gone. Just like that. The prowess with which the droid fought made his seasoned veterans look like fumbling rookies. "Pull everyone back. This is no longer to be treated as our territory. Switch from defensive tactics to offensive. Drive it into a pincer ambush." He listened as his men relayed the orders. "This complex is to be considered hostile territory and to be treated as such. No more attempting to contain this thing. I want it destroyed. Have all the survivors regroup in the hanger, redistribute the squads and do roll call. I need to know how many are left. We'll go from there."

Vitekk watched the metal beast as it cut down three more of his warriors that weren't fast enough to fall back. He leaned his weight on his heels as he watched the thing stand up and clean its knife. He watched some sort of a shimmer appear over it. _Shielding tech? That's new… Certainly explains a lot._ It began to walk back the way it came, picking its way down the fresh graveyard it had made. _What are you up to now…?_ "Trecyn, keep an eye on the thing and keep me updated. Bolt and barricade the door. I'm going out." He snapped to the control center's executive officer as he slipped on his helmet and left to meet the tatters of his men in the hangar.

**-Time Skip-**

"_Who are you?" The child in front of him, no more than four-maybe five-years in age, opened its mouth to speak, "Don't answer that. It was rhetorical." The child was silent as it looked up at the kneeling man with an expression of innocence; it was completely trusting of the strange man dressed in black as it clutched its stuffed toy. A brown rabbit. The child was completely trusting, malleable, _indoctrinable.

_The man smiled at the girl as he answered his own question, "You are who you want to be. So, who _do_ you want to be?"_

"_But what if I want to be who I _was?_ I want to go home." The child said to him, tears pooling in its big eyes and its tiny lower lip trembling._

_The man raised his eyebrows. All the other children would tell him what they wanted to be when they grew up. They told him their dreams and what they wanted to accomplish: being a superhero, a president, a princess, a doctor, or a firefighter… Never had one been astute enough to realize that they were never going back home, never seeing their friends and family again, and never going to accomplish the dreams they told him. Not until now. This child intrigued him and he made a mental note to keep an eye on it. He realized that this child was different somehow. He would have to lay everything out for it to understand that it was needed for a life that was not at all kind or pleasant, even though it was against the command's orders to let it know yet. He would have to be careful, but he was willing to risk it for the potential this child held. It needed to join willingly for it to succeed._

_The man sighed, world-weary as his happy mask slipped away to be replaced with a solemn quietness. The child's eyes widened in surprise and its tears dried up with curiosity showing plain on its face. It reached a hand out to touch the face of the man crouched before it, "Why are you sad?"_

_The man marveled at the child and its innocence for a moment before sighing again and starting from the beginning…_

"_What do you know about the Insurrectionists?"_

**-Time Skip-**

_So, who_ do_ you want to be?_

Echoes from a long ago past, still clear as if it was yesterday. The black and red armored being remembered. It remembered _everything, _especially the things it wanted to forget. But that's how life works, isn't it? You forget what you want to remember and remember what you want to forget.

_But not for me, _it thought bitterly, _I remember _everything,_ whether I want to or not._ It shrugged off that train of thought; being philosophical wasn't its job. That wasn't what it was created for.

The figure had managed to make its way through the compound, with the help of a friend's communications and remote tracker on its HUD. The communications receiver crackled in its helmet before a masculine, business-like voice came through, "You're getting close. The hangar is through the door twenty meters straight ahead. But be careful, I'm using the cruiser's external cameras. They're amassing out there."

The armored figure pursed its lips and asked in a low alto voice, "Can you hack their communications?"

"No, I am unfamiliar with this type of system, and would therefore need a direct link into their closed channels to figure it out. And I can't lip-read them, they all have helmets on. But they seem to actually know what they are doing."

"Send me the feed." As requested, the ship's external camera feed was sent to play before the tall figure's eyes. The ship it needed to get to was to the right of the hallway it was currently in. There was a hole in the side of the ship, signaling that it wouldn't need to open the door itself and could get inside without trouble; but its adversaries could also. Said enemies were currently getting behind barricades and strategically-placed cover to position themselves to attack as soon as the door separating them was opened. According to the feed, there were multiple doors leading into the enormous hangar, meaning the only way they knew which door it was going to come through was to either guess or to have been monitoring the giant's progress. If they were as trained as they appeared to be, they wouldn't be chancing their lives on a lucky guess.

The large figure melted into the shadows behind a supporting outcrop in the wall before glancing around with a small flashlight it pulled out of one if the pockets on its armored chest. _Bingo._ Above the doorway was a tiny black circle, about the size of a pinky-finger nail, glinting as it reflected the light from the flashlight. The giant took aim with a rifle it had picked up and with a marksmanship only dreamed of, fired a single bolt to blind the camera and fry its circuits. _Hopefully the camera wasn't hardened or reinforced._

Pulling out a few grenades and some explosive putty it had found, the black and red armored giant approached the door.

**-Time Skip-**

Talvor looked to Uliik, whom was sitting to his right, as he crouched behind a large cargo box. He thanked the _Manda_ that his closest _vod _had made it also, but they were both getting antsy. The red lights still shone throughout the base, the klaxons still sounded, adding to the anxiety and tension swirling thickly through his body. The experienced warrior looked around and saw that his _vode,_ the ones that were left, were tired. The bunker was under lockdown, no one in and no one out, while they fought to get it back under control.

Talvor personally thought the base was lost. He thought they should just evacuate and then bomb it from orbit. However, they didn't have the resources to pull a maneuver like that; and besides, he wasn't calling the shots here. He knew there were others who agreed with him, but to doubt his leadership was not a good move for him to make, not after the events of two months ago. He also knew there were people like Uliik around him. These people were stubborn and prideful about all the wrong things, adamant on getting the base back under control; people who wouldn't give up and people who would fight until their dying breath for the for their clients. People like their captain.

Talvor shifted on the balls of his feet, eyes flicking briefly to the captain. _Alor'ad_ Vitekk was the only warrior who looked completely at ease, like the eye of a storm. Talvor refocused on the door that the giant droid-thing was supposedly behind. How long had they been waiting for the thing to open the door? He glanced at the clock on his HUD and deduced roughly ten minutes. Dread crept through him, mixing with doubt. _What is it doing? What is it waiting for? _He, nor anyone around him had dealt with an enemy such as this before. He could feel himself getting skittish, but clamped down quickly on that feeling; Talvor was _not _a rookie.

He mentally slapped himself to regain focus. He needed to get himself together. Talvor took a deep breath, counted to five, and let it out slowly. Just as he collected himself, the door he was focused on blew off its rivets and slammed into the men directly in its path as they tried to duck behind cover.

**-Time Skip-**

Stabbing pain. Overwhelming sadness. Panicked desperation.

An overwhelming sense of grief.

_The human being snapped awake with a gasp. It lay in its bed, clenching a hand to the front of its shirt over its heart and heaving for breath in the darkness. It sat up and ran a hand through its short, sweat-matted hair. It breathed deeply, refusing to close its eyes lest it see the nightmare_ _again._

_Instead, it looked around the large room it was in: six beds, one currently occupied. Six armor docks, one with armor. Six weapons lockers, one being used._

But it shouldn't be that way. _It's wrong._

They should be in their beds also. _They'll never be there again._

All five of them, gone. _Just like that._

They're not coming back. _Ever._

_Tears welled in the human's eyes. It was too much; it couldn't stand it anymore. The silence in the room was deafening. Jumping out of its bed, it tripped on the sheets tangled around its legs. The human crashed painfully to the ground in the darkness. Desperately kicking its legs free, it scrambled up and to a door. Slapping the console attached to the wall, it stumbled into the bathroom and over to one of the sinks as the light flickered on._

_Leaning heavily onto its palms braced upon the countertop, the human looked up through its lashes to meet its reflection as it gasped for breath._

_It assessed itself with a detached, almost clinical scrutiny. Female. Roughly thirteen years of age. Unnaturally pale skin. Chocolate brown hair in a crewcut. Glaring steel grey eyes. Very well-toned muscles. Black underwear shorts and a light grey T-shirt with the acronym "UNSC" printed in bold black over its heart. Old German black and silver iron cross heirloom on a silver chain. Silver dog tags. Tear-stained cheeks. Ragged breath. Gritted teeth. Healthy._

Alive. _But they aren't._

I shouldn't be. _But you are._

_The teenage girl's pupils constricted as she let out a low, infuriated snarl at her reflection before her right fist made vicious contact with the mirror. It shattered, but the girl didn't stop. She continued to repeatedly try to attack the place her reflection was as she was swallowed by her red-hot emotions. Her legs braced her as her left hand gripped the counter, until her knuckles were white and the steel dented, steadying her as her rage-fueled fist continued to bash the concrete wall behind the mirror until it was riddled with cracks._

_She looked at her multiple reflections in the shattered mirror as she regained her breath. Pieces of glass were everywhere. She flexed her right hand and impassively examined her knuckles. They were bleeding heavily and riddled with shards of the mirror. She knew her hand wasn't broken, her enhanced bones were too dense to break so easily, but it would most definitely scar. She would feel physical pain radiate from her knuckles for a while._

_Her rage dealt with for the moment, she felt tired. The girl heaved a sigh and shuffled back into the other room in the darkness, blood dripping from her right hand to splash onto the bathroom tiles. Grief bubbled up from her stomach as her enhanced eyes flicked over the six beds; only one of them slept in recently. She stifled a sob with her good hand and leaned against the doorway for support._

_The girl's legs grew weak and she slumped to the floor, tears spilling back over her cheeks. Sobs wracked her body as she crawled on her hands and knees over to the weapons locker next to her bed._

_Grief ate at her from the inside as she unlocked and opened its door, smudging blood across everything she touched. Tears splashed down the front of her shirt as she reached up to grip her M6 in a bloody hand. She felt suddenly numb and looked at the pistol in wonder. Her sobs immediately calmed into slight hiccups as her fingers curled around the pistol's handle. It would be so _easy_ to end all the pain right now._

_Still on her knees, she grabbed a clip of ammo, loaded the M6, and chambered a round with practiced ease. Not taking her grey eyes off of the handgun, she gently closed the locker with a shaking hand. The teenage girl gingerly nestled herself against the wall, between her weapons locker and her training armor dock. She sniffled lightly as she blankly looked at the loaded weapon in her hands, turning it this way and that in the darkness as she examined it with an unfamiliar kind of fascination._

_The girl sat in the darkness for what seemed like forever, her gaze not once leaving the bloody pistol as she pondered. She took a deep breath._

They're dead. _They're not coming back._

Because why? _Because why?_

Why did I survive when they didn't?_ "I don't know." She whispered in a hoarse voice._

I just want the pain to stop, _she thought with a shuddering sigh. The girl closed her eyes, slipped her pointer finger onto the trigger, and lifted the handgun to press the barrel to her temple._

"_One-two-nine?"_

**-Time Skip-**

_I failed you twice. Both times on that accursed planet, Reach._

_I failed. Not again. _Never _again._

The large red and black figure ran through the halls of the cruiser, melting in and out of the shadows. The figure sling-shot itself around a corner, heading toward the bridge. _Just a little further, _it thought as it saw the bridge door slide into the ceiling. Ducking into the bridge, it listened as the door clunked shut behind it.

"Thanks, Keyes." The figure said as it gripped its helmet in its armored hands. With a glance at its HUD, a double blink, and a swift twist it broke the seal and removed its black helmet. The face underneath was that of a woman, looking to be in her mid-to-late-twenties with chocolate brown hair in a shaggy crewcut and steel grey eyes. She had two scars running parallel, one on either side of the iris of her left eye, from just below her hairline to her cheek.

"Alright Keyes, what have you got for me?" She barked out to the bridge in a low alto voice laced with authority.

A blue figure materialized above the holotable a few feet from the armored woman; data streams running up and down his small figure. He was dressed in a captain's white dress uniform, looking just like the deceased and beloved captain, complete with an M6 strapped to his right thigh.

The man lifted an eyebrow, pursing his lips. "You seem tense." He said in a conversational tone as he planted his hands on his hips and cocked his head, "Why don't you lay all of your concerns on me." The AI had been made from the late Captain Keyes himself, when they recovered his body from the wreckage of the Forerunner instillation. It seemed the techs who created him had a sense of humor when they programmed his personality. He was a stubborn, snarky thing. The lucky Spartan.

The tall woman stared at him, completely deadpan, and said "You want to play the psychologist card? Really? Now?" She arched an eyebrow.

A boom echoed through the ship as the deck plates vibrated almost imperceptibly. The woman's gaze flicked toward the door before returning to the snarky AI in front of her.

"It's my job to look after you and your team's well-being, y'know." The AI smirked before drawing the M6 from his holster, "But no, not really."

"Only our safety on the battlefield by collecting and analyzing data and then advising. You are _supposed _to make my job easier, not annoy me by pretending that being a psychologist is in your programming." She cleared her throat, "_Now, _what have you got for me?"

The AI clicked his tongue in disapproval, but relented nonetheless. "We have roughly fifty armed and armored adversaries slowly making their way to the bridge. I have closed, locked, and blast sealed all of the doors on the ship between us and them." He brought up different camera feeds on the high tech, holographic display tables, "Their armor seems to be made out of a particularly resilient alloy, and their weapons are a new kind of tech I've never seen before."

The woman arched an eyebrow. Tech not recognized by one of the most advanced AI created by humanity? Unheard of. _How long were we in cryo, exactly?_

The AI continued, unaware of her internal pondering, "I took the liberty of running as many scans as I was able with the systems at my disposal. Their weapons fire some sort of highly energized gas, giving the illusion of Covenant-style plasma. Your attackers seem to be mostly human-"

"Mostly?" The woman blinked, eyes flicking toward the door again as another muffled explosion was heard and the deck plates vibrated.

Keyes huffed, "As I was _saying_, I ran a biological scan and most of the armored people are human. However, there are several that are most definitely not. And they are also not conclusive with any known alien species either."

_And they're working with the humans,_ the woman thought as she looked at the display table in front of her. She eyed a particularly large, scaled, bipedal creature wielding a rifle on the display.

"So," the AI drawled, "any ideas in that head of yours?"

The woman let a barely perceptible smirk lift the corner of her mouth, "As a matter of fact, I do, but I will need a few things. Bring up the schematics of the ship and the inventory."

The AI matched the woman's smirk with one of his own as he complied and she began to fill him in on her plan.

**-Time Skip-**

Captain Vitekk watched as his men tried and failed, for the second time, to blow the reinforced, locked, and hydraulically-sealed blast doors in the hallway. The door was by no means still in good shape, being caved-in and bent to the point where he could reach an arm through a jagged hole ripped down the seam. But this was taking much too long. And wasting good explosives.

"Halt." He barked through the comms to the demolitions team, "This is taking too long." _Our enemy could be setting up an ambush right now, _"Go through the walls, not the doors."

He watched as his men abandoned the half-demolished door and set to work creating a shape-charge for the wall.

**-Time Skip-**

The woman was in the armory, collecting her needed weapons, spare ammunition, and explosives when Keyes contacted her through the comms again, "Uh, Commander, the tangos are intelligent little bastards. They're cutting their way through the weaker areas of the walls instead of knocking on the doors. I suggest you adjust the timetable accordingly."

"Solid copy. Keep me updated on their position." The brunette woman said as she stuffed everything carefully into a pack to carry.

"Affirmative, one-two-nine." Keyes closed the channel, leaving her to her thoughts. She exited the armory and headed toward the mess hall at a brisk jog, being sure to step lightly to muffle the echoing pound of her heavy boots in the halls.

Arriving at the cafeteria, Keyes opened the doors and locked them behind her. Ignoring the bolted-down tables and benches, she headed toward the serving bar that separated the crew area from the kitchen, knowing her time was slipping away.

Vaulting onto the counter, the woman set to work readying the room for the inevitable confrontation between herself and her pursuers.

**A/N:**

**Mando'a translations:**

**osik - dung (impolite- shit)**

**haar'chak - damn it**

**Manda - the collective soul or heaven, the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit, also can mean supreme, overarching, guardian-like (usually used in reference to the Mandalorian belief of Mandos loyal to their heratige and beliefs being rewarded with an afterlife of being apart of the collective spirit of living Mandalorians as a reward)**

**vod - brother, comrad, friend**

**vode - plural of vod**

**alor'ad - captain**

**Other translations:**

**kriff - derogatory vulgar expletive, synonymous to our word "fuck"**


	4. When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted

**I do not own Star Wars or Halo. I only own this story and my OCs.**

**Chapter 3: When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted**

Uliik and Talvor were hunters, born and bred. Uliik was tall, lean, well-disciplined,, loyal to a fault, and youthful. He had pale skin, shaggy blond hair, light green eyes, and preferred close-quarters combat over ranged. His best friend, Talvor, was the complete opposite in appearance: short, middle-aged, built like a tank, and defied the _Kyr'tsad_ at every chance he got. Talvor had dusky tan skin, buzz-cut brown hair, dark brown eyes, and loved to spend his time at the practice range. Their differences made them an undeniably lethal team in combat.

The two met when Uliik was ten years old, just after he had been orphaned. Talvor, then in his mid-twenties, was assigned to help mentor the unruly pre-teen in the ways of the Mandalorians. It was rough going, but in the end they had a tighter bond of brotherhood than most blood-related siblings. This bond was why they were nearly inseparable. They worked together, sweated together, fought and bled together. Uliik also couldn't help but wonder if today they were also destined to die together.

Uliik brushed the thought aside as he jogged quickly down the hallway to the point he, Talvor, and eight others were assigned to breach cafeteria, his _vod_ flanking his left side.

**-Time Skip-**

"Commander, I think it's time for you to get out. They are preparing to breach the cafeteria." Keyes' voice resonated over the woman's comm channel.

The woman glanced quickly over her handiwork before giving a curt nod and jumping onto the counter. Reaching above her head, she threw her supply sack up into a hole she had prepared with a cutting torch before pulling herself up. Sliding herself up into the maintenance area between the two decks, she drug herself along while balancing her weight on her forearms and toes, wincing at the scraping of the metal plates against her armor. Finding the maintenance hatch, she had Keyes unlock it before sliding it open, tossing her sack up, and climbing out on the deck above her pursuers.

Finding herself in the dark maintenance tunnels between the walls, she pulled out her flashlight, picked up the burlap sack, and began to make her way to the next corridor as a large boom shook the cruiser.

**-Time Skip-**

Uliik groaned aloud as he picked himself up from his slumped position against the corridor wall. He shook the fuzz from his head and looked around. His _ruus'alor_ had led the group of men into the cafeteria, with Uliik and Talvor at the rear of the pack when the explosion ripped the squad apart.

Uliik knew the beskar he and his fellow _Kyr'tsad _wore was made of Mandalorian iron, one of the strongest metals in the galaxy. If the wearer knew what they were doing, he or she would be protected from an entire array of weapons, from blasters, to _jetiise_ lightsabers. However, he also knew that no matter what kind of armor you wore a concussive blast like that had the kinetic potential to kill you.

His _alor'ad_ yelling over the comms shook him from his confused thoughts, "Squads Two through Six, sound off!"

Uliik listened to the responses, thinking of his _vode_. Squad Five was mostly intact; they had three minor injuries and two broken bones. Two, Uliik and Talvor's squad, had six men down including the _ruus'alor_, and multiple minor injuries. Squads Three and Four were down to half-strength, the survivors all having varied degrees of injury. Squad Six didn't respond.

_Alor'ad_ Vitekk growled over the comms to the men and women, "Did anyone at all see where the _chakaar_ went?!"

A woman from Squad Five answered, "Sir, over there." She pointed to a tool resting on the bar-style counter near her. The tool was not there when they combed over the ship looking for life after its excavation. _Alor'ad_ Vitekk walked over, his remaining warriors following close behind.

Vitekk cautiously picked up the tool before his eyes caught something else on the counter. A small black smudge marred the surface of the pristine countertop. He lightly ran his gloved finger over the scuff mark before setting down the tool and looking up. Uliik followed his line of sight to see a large hole cut into the ceiling.

Vitekk leapt up onto the counter, his armored boots making a resounding clang. Quickly activating his jetpack for a short burst, he gripped the edge of the hole and pulled his torso up. Turning on his HUD's low-light capabilities, he glanced around. He concluded that he was in some sort of duct, most likely a maintenance shaft. He scrutinized the area around him, looking for something. His eyes drifted to a black smudge matching the small one on the counter below his dangling boots and he felt a quick burst of adrenaline as his heart pounded. He recognized the feeling immediately; it was the same thrill he got from hunting. His pupils dilated as he pulled himself fully into the ductwork. He pulled his handgun from his thigh and slowly moved forward in a crouch. Vitekk was an accomplished hunter of both animals and sentient beings, and he had found his latest prey's trail. With this thought, a wicked grin stretched across his face.

Uliik and Talvor exchanged a glance before climbing onto the counter and up into the vents after their _vode._

**-Time Skip-**

The armored woman jogged down the dark maintenance hallway, the beam of her flashlight leading the way.

"Uh, one-two-nine, they're following you." Keyes' voice came over her radio.

The woman's eyebrows furrowed lightly, "How the hell did they already figure out where I went?"

"I have no idea. Could be any number of scenarios. Maybe they have thermals that are stronger than I predicted? Or they are just really good at this kind of game. Maybe they're just plain lucky. In any case, get your rear in gear."

"Where are they now?" She asked, picking up her pace slightly.

"They're climbing into the ductwork. I won't have a visual on them in ten seconds."

The woman gave a curt nod, "Alright. Keep me updated. Let me know when and where they reappear."

"Will do, one-two-nine."

**-Time Skip-**

"_Hey, Jorge?" the fourteen-year-old Ashton-129 whispered, hesitating until the fifteen-year-old Hungarian boy looked at her from across the white table__._

"_Yeah, Ash?" Jorge-052 replied, matching her soft tone. The two were sitting alone in the cafeteria of the ONI facility. Normally, she would be sitting with her squad and he would sit with his. But she was alone now. He had been concerned for his best friend so he requested to sit at the nearly-empty table that belonged to Grey Team: Ashton's team. He guessed that he was allowed to sit with the lone girl because Dr. Halsey was also concerned with Ash, although for different reasons than Jorge was. Jorge knew something was wrong and was concerned about her as a friend; he wanted to protect her while she was still fragile over the loss of her team and her attempted suicide. Halsey and the others were concerned about losing a science experiment._

"_You remember that rumor about some of us escaping?"_

_Jorge thought back. He did remember hearing about a couple of the pre-teenaged Spartans escaping the facility a long time ago, only to return soon after. He couldn't comprehend as to why they would've returned if they had taken their freedom back from ONI. Of course he remembered hearing the rumor. He answered her rhetorical question with a small nod as he looked into her grey eyes. He missed her defiant spark that had disappeared when her team, Grey Team, had perished months ago._

"_It's true." She whispered so quietly, if he hadn't had his augmentations, he doubted he would have heard her. He squinted his eyes and slightly tilted his head in confusion._

"_And how do you know that?" He asked her skeptically._

_Her eyes flicked to the untouched food on her tray and his concern grew. She still had little to no appetite. He wished she would eat; if she would eat even a little then the doctors constantly observing them would relax a little and maybe even stop giving her nutrients intravenously. He didn't want her to die either, but the way the doctors and scientists acted and controlled her activities after he found her with her weapon a few months ago irked him. He was the one that truly cared about her; he was the person she trusted, and it bothered him how they, especially Halsey, thought they could weasel their way into her head and convince him to betray Ashton's trust. Ash and Jorge had been together since day one of this hell and he'd be damned if he betrayed their bond after a decade of being with her, much to the annoyance and dismay of Halsey._

"_I was one of them." Jorge's eyes widened and he leaned forward a little in interest; if Ash was willing to talk, then he was willing to listen, no matter what it was about. Her eyes still not meeting his, she continued, "They made us promise not to tell everyone about it."_

_Jorge would've been lying if he said he wasn't a little hurt that she had kept a secret like that from him. _Well, at least she's telling me now, _he reasoned as Ash continued._

"_But I came back."_

"_Why would you come back? You could be with your family right now."_

_She shook her head slowly from side to side, eyes watering as she breathed deeply, "No. No I couldn't."_

_Jorge frowned. What was she talking about? Did her family not accept her back because she was augmented now? Because if that was the case, then they weren't family. From what he could remember of his family, they would always accept him back because that's what family did. Family loved unconditionally. If her family wouldn't accept her back__,__ then his would. He could take her to his family when he got her out; he was certain they would accept her._

"_What do you mean?" Jorge asked quietly, his curiosity getting the best of him, "Why wouldn't they take you back?"_

_Her steely eyes snapped up to his own hazel orbs. "Because they didn't need to," His eyebrows furrowed as she continued, "I was replaced."_

"_Your parents wouldn't just replace you, would they?"_

"_They didn't know I had been replaced."_

_Ashton's words made no sense to Jorge, "Impossible. Parents would realize their child disappeared in the night. How could they not? Mine surely noticed I was gone and yours too. They've probably been looking for us this past decade. I know my parents wouldn't give up that easily and from what you've told me of your own, neither would they."_

_But the German girl in front of him simply shook her head slowly as her sad eyes drilled into his confused ones, "No. Don't you see? They had already thought about that. They planned for it. ONI guessed that our parents would've come looking for us, and planned ahead. They knew that seventy-five children aged four to seven would've raised suspicions on _someone's_ radar. They're smarter than that here. This is their game and we are just their pawns. They own us."_

_Jorge shook his head slightly, "Not so. They can't legally own us. It would be considered slavery under the United Earth Government's constitution. We were born inside their borders, so we are legal citizens. And therefore we're protected. What ONI did to us is illegal." Ashton still shook her head._

"_Maybe so, but no one knows we're gone. ONI replaced us. Our parents haven't been looking for us this past decade because they didn't realize we're gone in the first place. And it would be stupid to look for something that's not lost." The brunette girl was getting worked-up over the conversation, her voice raising just loud enough to be heard a table or two over in the empty cafeteria._

_Jorge soothed her, whispering as he held his palms up, "Alright. Alright. So, tell me. How would they pull replacing us off? Wouldn't our parents realize something was off with us?"_

"_No. At least mine didn't. When I went home, there was… there was a lot of people at my house. Some of the people I recognized, some I didn't. They all wore black and it scared me. I snuck into the house to find out what was going on and I found that they were mourning over a coffin that was sitting in the yard. When I peeked into the casket… Jorge, it was _me._ I was in the casket. I was _dead_ to my family."_

_Jorge was shocked into silence by the thought of seeing himself dead, allowing Ashton to continue on, "Around her, no _my_, neck was my family's heirloom." She held up an old German iron cross on a ball chain, the silver glinting in the harsh light of the cafeteria, "I panicked when I saw my father's necklace laying in the casket. I snatched it off the dead girl, me or whoever it was, and ran, hiding my face under my jacket."_

**-Time Skip-**

After several maintenance-tunnel-shortcuts, elevator-shaft ascents and descents, and sprints down corridors the tall woman had managed to put a substantial amount of space between her pursuers and her. Just in time too, she had arrived at her destination: the engine room.

It was an enormous room that spanned several decks high and might not have seemed a smart place to duke it out with her attackers, but the woman had a plan. Not wasting any of the time she had managed to buy herself, she strode into the room.

**-Time Skip-**

_Ruus'alor_ Trecyn wasn't happy as he looked around himself at the monitors and sensors in the control room. The _Mando'ade_ sensors his handful of men were controlling were directed at the blasted ship they had dug up. He currently stood in front of a large holographic model of the outside of the dark grey ship in the _aliit_'s hanger, watching the little colored blips racing through the blue 3D image.

Trecyn noticed a shift in the single red dot. It had stopped and seemed to be hovering at the stern of the ship. He commed his superior, "_Alor'ad_ Vitekk, it seems to have stopped. It's hovering at the stern of the ship, most likely in a single room. I recommend preparing for another ambush." He heard his _alor'ad_ swear in his ear about his quarry.

"Can you tell what it's doing or what the room is?"

"Negative, sir. Our sensors are barely strong enough to penetrate through the hull's metal. Just give me a minute on the second request."

"You have fifteen seconds."

He discreetly rolled his eyes inside his helmet at his _alor'ad_'s typical behavior as his fingers set to work on the controls in front of him. Trecyn quickly brought up the basic schematics of the rooms, corridors, and lifts from when their _aliit _had mapped it earlier this week. He then positioned and overlaid the schematics onto the hologram and enlarged the image. Pinpointing the locations of the dots again, he contacted _Alor'ad_ Vitekk as he checked the clock timer on his HUD. He had 2.3 seconds to spare, "_Alor'ad_. It seems it is in the large room thought to be the engine room."

Vitekk grunted an affirmative, "Any idea what it's doing?"

"My earlier judgment still stands, sir."

The _alor'ad _terminated the connection and Trecyn got a foreboding feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He sighed heavily, bracing his hands on the console and supporting his weight on it as he hung his head. He focused his eyes onto the red dot from under his brows, the bluish light glinting off his visor. He suddenly felt very tired.

**-Time Skip-**

The Spartan woman crouched on one of the grated maintenance walkways on the second story of the engine room as she prepared for her guests' arrival. She finished tampering with the wiring on the armor lockups and plasma grenades she had collected from the armory earlier. She quickly stashed the mash up plasma-grenade-lockups on her person, along with two Brute spike grenades, a few concussion grenades, her DMR on her back, M6 on her right thigh, spare ammunition, her gauntlet blades, and her personal combat blade on her shoulder. She knew from experience that their armor was much too hard to compete with through conventional means. Six ran the unarmored weak points of her attackers through her mind: _between the armor plates, neck, elbow joints, front and back of the shoulder joints, hip joints, the back of the knees, and fingers. They are also susceptible to concussive force in general and melee attacks to the previously noted weak points. UNSC rounds and their own laser weapons aren't strong enough to pierce their armor, but both can shear through the flightsuit underneath, _she thought.

"I hope you are almost done; they'll be here in thirty seconds." Keyes stated.

_Scheiße, _she cursed internally. She quickly scanned herself into the holograms, measured the distance and carefully tossed them to specific locations in the room.

"Ten seconds." Keyes warned.

She jogged into position closer to the door before calling to Keyes, "Hit the lights!"

The room was bathed in darkness, the Spartan's augmented eyes having little trouble in the dark. She watched the timer Keyes set on her HUD.

_Three... Two... One... _The doors to the engine room slid open, lights from the hallway spilling into the room. Six watched her adversaries creep inside, rifles at the ready. She noticed the door slide closed behind them as they turned on their helmet floodlights and flashlights. A few without lights crept away from the rest of the group, slinking around the room. She did a quick headcount: twenty-four with lights and six with night vision. _Those are either the lucky ones of the group or they earned their night vision some way, like being in special ops; _she made a mental note to keep an eye on them.

Six whispered into the comms, "Keyes, on my mark activate one of the holograms."

"Affirmative, Commander."

She waited one heartbeat, then two. _Now, _she thought. Gripping six improvised plasma-lockup grenades, she switched on the timers and counted three seconds before tossing them down onto her attackers. The grenades hit the invaders with a _clang; _the plasma gripped to their armor and burst into flashes of light, the armor locks gripping onto the enemies. The moment the lockups froze them, the grenades were activated inside the armor locks, frying the people who were trapped and protecting the power conduits around them.

"Now Keyes!" The AI remotely activated one of the holograms, 129 did a quick recount as they shot at the lit hologram. Nineteen with flashlights, one of the improvised grenades missed. She palmed the two spike grenades from her belt. Raising them above her head at slightly wider than shoulder width and gripping them like clubs, she jumped down onto the back of an unsuspecting enemy. Slamming them down in an arc to hit the man's neck with a brutal, crushing force she felt the spikes sink into the flesh under his flightsuit. She quickly swung the clubs to either side of her, bashing two more necks in the chaos caused by her suddenly appearing in the midst of her enemies.

129 dodged to the right, the heat from the colorful lasers slamming into her, shaving power off her shields. Stepping forward and whipping a leg out, the Spartan felt the woman's visor shatter and neck snap under the force of her roundhouse kick. She brought the grenades over her shoulders, flinging them at the necks of two more. Her aim was true, the spike grenades colliding with the victims just under the lip of their helmets. 129 pulled the DMR from her back and loosing several shots as she squeezed the trigger, the carefully aimed bullets ripped into the unarmored areas of their flightsuits.

Suddenly a gold shimmer snapped across her vision. _Damn, _129 thought, _it really doesn't take very many direct hits from their rifles to deplete the shielding. Their assault rifles per round are roughly the strength of a Covenant Type-33 needler. _The image of a teal armored woman flashed through her mind. Taking three running strides, the woman dove behind one of the large support pillars protruding from the wall, blending into the darkness of the room.

Feeling the heat of a laser that previously slammed into the armor next to her spine, she barked into the comms "Keyes, activate the nearest hologram to me."

The Spartan saw the faint glow of the hologram's light took advantage of her adversaries' moment of distraction, tossing the concussion grenades into a knot of the armed people.

**-Time Skip-**

Uliik could see that _Alor'ad_ Vitekk was not happy. With his nightvision, Uliik watched the large droid-thing jump down from one of the upper levels and begin to slaughter a knot of surprised _verde_ from across the room.

"Uliik and Salyyir with me, the rest of you provide backup." Vitekk barked to the five other elite warriors with him. Uliik couldn't pull his eyes away from their large quarry as its energy shielding flared gold before finally giving way. The large enemy dove behind a support pillar. Just as the group of six prepared to attack, another figure appeared between them and their prey. Uliik tensed, his breath hitching in surprise as he looked up at the suddenly close figure. Flashes of blasterfire from the larger group sheared through the unmoving figure, seemingly not doing a thing.

"Forget it! It's a hologram!" _Alor'ad _Vitekk yelled over the comms as a concussive blast hit them from across the room where the distraction group was, "Now! While its shield is down!" Vitekk, Uliik, and another warrior, the blademasters, each unsheathed their blade of choice and jumped from cover. The other three, all sharpshooters, waited to provide ranged support at the right moment.

Vitekk charged, gripping his _beskad_ in both hands, bringing it over his head as he leapt at the back of the black and red menace as it leveled a shot with the neck of another _Mando'ad_.

**-Time Skip-**

"Behind you!" Keyes yelled into the woman's ear just as her motion tracker flared to life behind her. She whirled around, bringing her DMR up just in time to block the overhead attack from a man launching himself at her. The man's blade met her rifle with a resounding _clang, _the force behind the blow catching 129 off-guard. Taking a step back to regain her balance, she noticed that this man was particularly strong. In that fraction of a second, she also noticed that the alloy his blade was made of was also particularly strong; the man's blade ate a nasty notch out of her DMR from the force of the blow. _Note to self, don't let the blade hit you, _she thought.

Two more people rushed up from behind the first man, a woman wielding a sword that resembled the first man's a little too closely for 129's comfort, and another man wielding a double-bladed weapon of sorts. She dropped her impaired rifle and reached forward to grip the first man's wrists with her left hand, and shoved him toward the woman; for all the man's strength when compared to other humans, he still had nothing on the augmentations that gave her three hundred percent of his muscle mass. Not to mention the hydraulic servos in her armor.

129 kicked a leg out at the other man, connecting her heavily armored boot to his chest with enough force to knock him back several meters. Gold flared over her, signifying her recharged shielding as she watched the man crash into the bulkhead and fall to his knees. Turning back to the other two, she flinched when several lasers slammed into her vital points, nearly destroying her newly recharged shielding.

Glancing to the side, she saw two enemies crouching behind power conduits and a third firing up a jetpack to get into position on the maintenance walkway. Jumping back to dodge the sword of the first melee attacker, she tossed two concussion grenades at the two crouching behind cover. She saw one of the grenades get sniped in midair, causing it to detonate prematurely as she quickly ducked under the overlapping second-story to avoid the three melee attackers and the sniper above her. 129 heard the remaining grenade she tossed at the sharpshooters detonate as she slid into one of the narrow ramped halls that led up to the maintenance walkways. She mentally thanked Keyes as he locked the door on her pursuers. She inhaled a deep breath to recollect herself.

"Keyes," She growled into the comms, "let 'em in."

"Right."

129 heard the door open and she swiftly pivoted, swinging her fist in a powerful blow, connecting it with the throat of the attacker behind her. The Spartan felt the neck of the smaller woman crumple under the force, briefly pinning the woman to the wall by her crushed neck with her fist. Taking advantage of the fraction of a second of surprise that caused the two men to hesitate, she kicked out a leg, her boot slamming into the blue and grey torso of the first man knocking him into the second who failed to dodge in time. As both men tumbled down the ramp, 129 pivoted around again and ran the rest of the way up the winding ramp.

Keyes opened the door and she caught sight of the sharpshooter. Darting out onto the maintenance walkway, she sprinted toward the man, who brought his rifle up in time to level off three shots. Nearly two-thousand pounds of Spartan slammed into the shorter man with enough force he dropped his rifle, as 129 pinned him to the grate and gripped her Kabar. As she heard the ever-so-quiet _shink_ of the blade sliding out of its casing on her chest, she felt the man stiffen under her as his eyes caught unmistakable glint of the blade. With cool precision and absolute control, she jerked her fist down, not giving the man time to even utter a shout of surprise, let alone attempt to struggle, as she buried the blade in his throat.

The female Spartan watched crimson blood seep into his flightsuit as she withdrew the blade from the man's neck.

_Red blood. Human blood. _129 paused as time seemed to slow as a single drop fell from the point of the blade and her eyes locked onto the crimson spray flying into the air…

_**-**_**Time Skip-**

_A relaxed young 129 rounded the corner, absolutely silent. Her unhurried footfalls made no sound against the concrete floor as she made her way closer to her mark._

Just a few more minutes,_ she thought as she crept through the compound, avoiding patrols and ducking into shadows created by the soft night lighting when her active camouflage needed recharging. Her matte black armor blended into the corners well enough that her presence wasn't noticed by the Insurrection troops watching the security cameras. She counted the doors as she crept down the dormitory hallway until she came face to face with the one she was looking for. _Second basement, third wing, sixth hall, third door on the right, _she recited in her head._

_She activated her visor's thermals and saw that the room beyond the door had two people in the bed. She turned her thermals off and looked left and right down the hall to check to make sure the hall was clear. Pulling an adapter cable out of a utility pouch, she clipped it to the door controls and connected the other end to the tacpad on her left forearm. She had just he fifteen seconds to hack until her active camouflage wore off and she'd be exposed._

_Sweat trickled down her right temple. Computers had never been her most gifted area, but she had extra training in that area to make up for it. However, it would still take her longer than she was comfortable with._

_Ten… Eleven…_

_Twelve seconds and the door slid open with a soft _woosh. _129 quickly stepped into the dark room and pressed the door controls with a finger. Her camouflage had just one more second when the room was concealed in darkness once again. The Spartan stood absolutely still, lightly breathing as she assessed the room with her thermals again._

_She soundlessly approached the bed, letting her HUDs facial recognition software identify the beings in the bed. One man and one woman. The woman was the infamous rebel leader that had been the cause of one too many Insurrectionist rallies as of late. She was middle aged and lying next to a younger man, a deserting ONI agent known by his alias "The Sparrow"__,__ on her HUD. 129 guessed ONI didn't like the idea of their pawns taking on the role of gameplayer._

_To 129, it didn't matter in the slightest why the man had deserted, what he had taken with him, or who's toes he had stepped on. She had a mission. Orders from above her pay grade. That was a joke, 129 didn't get paid. That was why she slid her polycarbonate-steel microfiber Kabar out of the sheath on her shoulder. Its why she slit the two lovers' throats without a sound and escaped back into the hallway, her active camo flaring over her to hide her from view. It didn't matter to 129 that the man thought he would survive the night when he had closed his eyes._

_129 didn't care who she had killed, because at the end of the day when she laid down, she was only trying to survive too._

-**Time Skip-**

129 heard a cry of anguish from behind her as she snapped back into reality, red spattering her visor. Her HUD compensated for the obstruction on her silver visor, intensifying its sensors in that area to provide clear a view as she spun to face the charging enemies.

There were only two, she realized. The being with the double-bladed weapon swung wildly at her, screaming over his external comms in a language 129 didn't understand. He seemed fueled with rage, spitting with fury and hate as she dodged to the right. Coming face to face with the second attacker, she leaned back. Her foot coming too close to the edge of the derailed walkway, she didn't have enough time nor space to correct her balance and 129 slipped. Panic blinded her for a fraction of a second; her mind froze as she remembered being tossed out of a ship and falling to the surface of a planet. Then, the second was over and her combat-honed reflexes took control once again.

Shooting out a hand, 129 gripped the edge of the walkway, swinging herself in an arc with enough force to propel herself back up over the edge. Kicking her leg out, she swept the feet out of the enemy with the short-sword. Whipping her left hand out and gripping the male's upper arm in a vice grip before he hit the ground; she pulled him in front of her just in time to shield her from the thrust of the double-bladed weapon sent by her first attacker. The tip of the weapon slid up the armor covering his abdomen to bury itself up to the hilt between the plates covering his chest. 129 twisted slightly to the side to avoid being impaled also.

The remaining attacker froze in shock, his voice seeming to not work as his screams of wrathful vengeance ceased. He stumbled backward as he released his grip on the weapon as if it had burned him. 129 dropped the body at her side, watching as the male in front of her hesitated just long enough for her to send the blade still gripped in her right hand flying through the air to bury itself in his neck. His armored body slumped noisily to the ground before silence surrounded her one again.

Until she heard the narcissistic voice of the only other conscious being on the ship, "And I thought _I _was good at my job. You never cease to amaze, Commander," came the Keyes' voice over her comms.

129's silence prompted the AI to continue, "I used the ships scanners and you are the only living sentient thing on board. Except for the others, who are in cryo, the only way something could still be alive is for them to have escaped or still be inside the facility."

"Systems?"

"I used the cruiser's thermals and motion detectors. Recommended course of action?"

129 thought for a moment. "Wake the others, we've a lot of work to do."

**A/N: Okay, so I know that this is late. Like, really ridiculously overdue kinda late. And I'm sorry for that, however, my life has recently picked up a ridiculous pace. But anyway, this chapter was a monster to write, so I hope it kinda, sorta, makes up for it with all the action. Cause I've never written an action scene before. Also there are clues to her past in this chapter, which I will be filling in throughout the story. Next chapter will be mostly introducing new characters and filling in the timeline to this point, so lots of OCs and explaining. That's all for now. I hope you enjoy reading my story as much as I enjoy writing it!**

**Mando'a translations:**

**Kyr'tsad - Death Watch (lit. death society)**

**vod - brother, comrad, friend**

**ruus'alor - sergeant**

**alor'ad - captain**

**jetiise - (pl) Jedi**

**chakaar - corpse robber, thief, petty criminal (general expletive term of abuse)**

**vode - plural of vod**

**aliit - clan, family**

**verde - (pl) warriors, soldiers**

**beskad - traditional mandalorian saber (slightly curved and made of Mandalorian iron)**

**Mando'ad - Mandaorian**

**German translations:**

**Scheiße - crap, shit**


End file.
